


Retrograde

by hocotate



Series: Flashfics/drabbles [24]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, HunHan - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 17:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hocotate/pseuds/hocotate
Summary: Sehun's scent is familiar, yet Luhan finds himself unable to remember.





	

Luhan has been feeling rather confused lately.  
  
The amount of days since it started aren't counted, just like the cause isn't clear to him. White walls and cheap, consolatory flowers were what he woke up to a while ago, and “an unfortunate accident, Mr Lu” were the only words offered as an explanation to his aching head and wiped out mind.  
  
He isn't sure with whom the fault really lies, and the man beside him refuses to spill it. There is nothing accusatory about the way Sehun peeks up at him from among the sheets, his heavy eyelids drooping over all too wet eyes, but neither is there any current sense of shame. There is nothing in that gaze to help Luhan remember, not a single clue to as why Sehun is but a stranger. Warmth is resting there beneath the shiny surface, but that could just be the remaining part of once shared memories.  
  
Perhaps Sehun doesn’t know it either, the reason why Luhan can’t recall a single thing. Maybe they are both as confused, as painfully unaware of why things have changed. There might not even be any further explanation; “an unfortunate accident” were, after all, the words. A satisfactory summary of events aimed to bring comfort to a bandaged boy. Three, simple words were all that was deemed necessary, and Luhan does, furthermore, acknowledge that no amount of sentences would have made any difference. Sehun is still a stranger, after all, however warm and soft. He is a stranger, yet he slithers closer and refuses to let go.  
  
There is something familiar about Sehun’s scent, or so Luhan likes to think. A hint of something sweet, enhanced by its woody base; perhaps jasmine and musk, maybe some bergamot. It reminds him of a sister despite the alleged lack of existence of such a relative, but that vague reminder is of little comfort. The familiarity is probably just a preference, and it doesn't bring back anything of value.  
  
“Sehun?” he asks after hours of silence, ignoring the aftertaste of those forced syllables. The skin against his feels alien, and he wonders as Sehun hums against his chest if those soft vibrations alone ever used to send shivers down his own spine. “Were we close?”  
  
There is something there when Sehun looks up; sadness slapped onto his face, drenched in even longing, maybe. A voice whispering and steeped in nostalgia, the repetition of initial consonants hinting at a fear of letting go. There comes no response and so Luhan repeats the question, “Were we, Sehun?” spilling from his lips with feigned ease as if that name isn't foreign to him.  
  
Nostalgia is still there when the answer eventually comes, as is grief tinted with thirst. Sehun whispers and hides his face in the chest before him, but he doesn't cry, nor choke on words. “We were more than that, Lu,” is all he has to say, and that is when Luhan notices the bitterness.  
  
There are hints, clear yet inconclusive, and although they keep coming, there isn't much more. Sehun and Luhan are but strangers pretending that they aren’t, and Luhan can’t seem to recollect the memories.

**Author's Note:**

> This is more a drabble than a oneshot but I felt like posting it anyway. Hope you liked it!


End file.
